


Dumbledore's Army Rides Again

by SylvanWitch



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cursed Child compliant, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 09:34:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8528017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylvanWitch/pseuds/SylvanWitch
Summary: When a new dark lord rises in the West, Harry and his friends are called upon to once again defeat the forces of evil.  Or, how Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, and Dumbledore's Army ride to save America from Lord Dumptan and his army of grand wizards.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Love trumps hate. Fear cannot conquer love. We will not be silenced.

Harry was at his rarely used desk pondering a week-old report on Dark Mark tree graffiti reported in the Hebrides when Ron entered rather precipitously.

“Does this look like a snake to you?” Harry asked, shoving a photo across the desk to Ron.

Ron gave the photo a distracted, cursory glance. “Looks like a natural thing to me,” he offered. Then, “Ask Neville. He’s the expert.”

Harry made a sound of agreement and shoved the photo into a folder.

“You needed something?” Harry nudged.

“Oh, right! The Americans need you.”

“ ‘Need me’ for what?”

“A new dark lord has risen in the West.”

Harry gave Ron a quizzical look. “Been watching _Lord of the Rings_ reruns too much lately?”

“This is serious, mate,” Ron said. “He’s called Lord Dumptan, and he’s rallying an army of grand wizards bent on taking over the world.”

Harry suspected this was more of Ron’s characteristic hyperbole.

“What’s a ‘grand wizard’?” Harry asked. These Americans, always with the ridiculous posturing. ‘Grand wizard’ indeed!

“They belong to something called the Ku Klux Klan.”

Harry made a face at the strange language. It sounded like a curse. “Is that their version of the Wizengamot or something?”

“No, that’s the Supreme Court,” Ron answered, waving his hands as if to prevent further tangents. “Lord Dumptan is trying to infiltrate that, too, but no—‘grand wizards’ are some sort of muggles who have gained the power of hate. It’s one of their Forbidden curses.”

“Like the Cruciatus?” Harry wondered why he hadn’t heard of this before. It seemed like the sort of threat Hermione would have had dozens of feet of parchment on.

But Ron was shaking his head. “No, these grand wizards use their power to silence other muggles, muggles they don’t agree with, and spread their message of hate instead.”

“And Lord Dumptan is raising an army of them?” His skepticism was being replaced by an old but familiar feeling, weighing down his stomach and turning his blood to icewater.

Ron nodded, looking grimmer than Harry had seen him in twenty years.

“Surely there are American witches and wizards who are more than capable of taking care of this themselves?”

Ron shook his head. “They tried, but their most powerful spells—Libertatio, Egalitarius, even Omniamoris—all failed.”  
  
“Then we’d better gear up,” Harry said, rising from behind his desk and searching the floor for his go-bag and the desktop for the most recent list of portkey passwords.

“The others are already waiting in the Atrium,” Ron answered, breaking into a broad smile at Harry’s expression.

No one wanted another wizarding war, especially not Harry, who was quite content with his life as it was—family, friends, a job he was good at and a world he had helped to make safe. But if something was threatening that world, robbing others of their sense of security and hope, well, he couldn’t just sit by and let it happen.

Shouldering his pack, Harry strode for the door, Ron falling in beside him when they came to the corridor that led to the lift.

“Hermione’s been briefed?” he asked, already sure of the answer.

“Who do you think sent me to get you? She’s waiting upstairs.”

Harry’s stride faltered, but he didn’t stop walking. “She’s going with us?” he asked as they entered the lift and moved upward, the air around them alive with gently flapping messages.

“Of course she is,” Ron answered. “We’re all going.”

“All?”

But Ron didn’t have to answer, for when the lift doors opened on the sunny Atrium, Harry saw them there—Hermione and Ginny and Neville and George, Lee Jordan and Dean Thomas, Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell, even the Patil sisters, looking harried but resolved.

To one side, alone but not unwelcome, Draco Malfoy stood, a bored look poorly masking the excitement Harry could see was there, just under the surface.

“But you all have families,” Harry objected before the lift doors had even slid shut behind him. “Lives, jobs—you can’t just leave them and go to war again!”

“And you can’t ask us to stay here and pretend that terrible things aren’t happening in America,” Hermione answered, stepping toward him. More quietly, her tone gentle but firm, “Surely you’ve learned by now that we’re better together than alone?”

And then she touched his shoulder to urge him forward, and Ginny came to his other side, and Ron took Hermione’s hand, and they all walked toward the emergency portkey located on the Muggle Memorial erected shortly after the end of the last wizarding war.

Just as the swirling, sickening feeling of the portkey overtook him, Harry heard Luna say, “Dumbledore’s Army rides again.”

Those grand wizards wouldn’t know what had hit them.


End file.
